>*Cobson falls into deep rumination, his hand holding his chin as he closes his eyes and thinks, it's a large task after all, even if he found the solution, he would have to make it palatable to the Jews, who, if anything, have little to no reason to listen to Cobson, after all if anyone is superior to white people it is Jews with all of their biological failings and misshaps, that have taken control over the world through infiltrating the banking system and the elite. Yes, even as dysgenic Jews are, they are still our betters*
>*Cobson thinks, and thinks, and thinks. And thinks some more*
>*There is no solution, and Cobson cannot find any answer, and begins to even find his tasks of the JIDF meaningless*
>*As he opens his eyes he notices that something is wrong. The computer is turned off even without his prompting, and his room though familiar, is different. Outside, the day is a little red as if the sun had been setting with a sky full of clouds - out of season- Cobson notices*
>"Hmm, I must have fallen asleep"
>*But Cobson is disturbed by something he can't quite grasp, and he so decides to go out for a walk to clear his mind*
>*As Cobson walks out of his house he notices everything is different*
>"Wha-..." *He looks around, his home, a traditional american home, is surrounded in a large city quite different than its original location*
*Jefre Cantu-Ledesma's love is a stream album is streaming from somehwere distant, but Cobson cannot pinpoint where.*
>"I must be dreaming" - said Cobson- "But it all looks too real, and I can't force myself awake, wake up! wake up!"
>*After much pinching and running and spinning and jumping, Cobson realizes that he is not in a dream - not one he can wake up willingly from, at least, so he decides to take this chance instead to explore this unfamiliar land*